‘Then you have only got twenty thousand a-year, Ormsby,’ said Lord Milford, laughing, ‘because the world gives you forty.’
‘Well, we must do the best we can in these hard times,’ said Mr. Ormsby, with an air of mock resignation. ‘With your Dukes of Bellamont and all these grandees on the stage, we little men shall be scarcely able to hold up our heads.’
‘Come, Ormsby,’ said Lord Milford; ‘tell us the amount of your income tax.’
‘They say Sir Robert quite blushed when he saw the figure at which you were sacked, and declared it was downright spoliation.’
‘You young men are always talking about money,’ said Mr. Ormsby, shaking his head; ‘you should think of higher things.’
‘I wonder what young Montacute will be thinking of this time next year,’ said Lord Fitz-Heron.
‘There will be plenty of people thinking of him,’ said Mr. Cassilis. ‘Egad! you gentlemen must stir yourselves, if you mean to be turned off. You will have rivals.’
‘He will be no rival to me,’ said Lord Milford; ‘for I am an avowed fortune-hunter, and that you say he does not care for, at least, at present.’
‘And I marry only for love,’ said Lord Valentine, laughing; ‘and so we shall not clash.’
‘Ay, ay; but if he will not go to the heiresses, the heiresses will go to him,’ said Mr. Ormsby. ‘I have seen a good deal of these things, and I generally observe the eldest son of a duke takes a fortune out of the market. Why, there is Beaumanoir, he is like Valentine; I suppose he intends to marry for love, as he is always in that way; but the heiresses never leave him alone, and in the long run you cannot withstand it; it is like a bribe; a man is indignant at the bare thought, refuses the first offer, and pockets the second.’